


For Someone Like You

by chibimono



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Character Being Outed By Another, Divorced Gabriel Reyes, Fashion Designer Gabriel Reyes, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Biphobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Wedding Planner Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-03 22:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20460431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibimono/pseuds/chibimono
Summary: As a wedding planner, the least favorite part of Jack's job is the dress shopping. That is untilDeath Blossom Designsopens its doors. And Gabe works his way into Jack's heart.





	For Someone Like You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohappyfair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohappyfair/gifts).

> After some rocky delays, here's my pinch hit entry for the 2019 R76 RBB, inspired by the beautiful art of Ohappyfair! It was a joy getting to work with Ohappyfair for the 2018 R76 BigBang, so I jumped at the chance to work together again!
> 
> The art is embedded, but please check out [Ohappyfair's art post](https://twitter.com/ohappyfair/status/1168151676139769857?s=21) and leave all the love! 
> 
> *** Warnings for discussions and mentions of homophobia and biphobia, but no actual direct homophobia or biphobia happen.  
Also, a character outs another, but with good intentions. This is fictional and it works out in this story. BUT. It's still not good at all, and it is in no way okay to ever do in real life.
> 
> I'd like to give thanks from the deepest wells of my heart to Airafleeza for the spectacular beta, Ashe Rhyder for the hand holding and help, and Mechformers for the cheerleading. I don't know where I would be without you guys. <3  
Title comes from the lyrics to “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo.

“I’m so sorry. These are hard decisions for her to make without her fiancé here,” Fareeha said, standing beside Jack and watching her mother get into their car. “She’s anxious. She’s just worried she’ll be reminded of her wedding day with my dad, that it might jinx the whole marriage. She doesn’t want that for Reinhardt.”

“Her anxieties are perfectly valid,” Jack nodded, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to make sure they both have the best experience possible. No matter how many weddings a person has, their day should be perfect.”

Fareeha shook his hand. “Thank you, Jack. You don’t know how much we appreciate this. I’m sure Reinhardt will give you a big hug once he’s back from his tour.”

Jack watched them drive away and then checked his watch. He needed to head over to the meet and greet with the owner of a new dress shop in town. He would be early, but he’d like the chance to look around at the wares and gauge the craftsmanship and prices.

The county Jack lived in was small, filled with even tinier towns and endless fields of farmland. Born and raised in the community of Bloomington, Jack had come to know just about everyone, and just about everyone had come to know him. It’s hard not to be the talk of the town when you’re one of the very few openly LGBTQ folks around. 

Kicked off the family farm as soon as he came out as gay, Jack tried making his way as a business accountant for a few years. It paid well, but the frequency of harassment and homophobia he dealt with in an office setting wasn’t worth it. He saved every spare dollar in hopes of traveling the world, but the few relationships he managed to tumble into crushed those hopes and squandered his savings. 

Though his heart hurt, he still believed in love. If he couldn’t be happy, he could at least try making someone else happy. 

He started organizing parties and simple vacations for friends. Then a wedding for a cousin. It was such a hit, he was asked to plan weddings for two of the cousin’s friends—and then a few of their friends after that. Before long, Jack took out a small loan to start his own business as a wedding planner.

He loved it. Despite the bigoted elderly population and overwhelming toxic masculinity of fiercely heterosexual males, Jack found that women were comfortable with him and willing to share their bridal dreams. He was happy to pull favors with old schoolmates and previous clients for deals with catering, DJing, and decorations. He asked his former farmland neighbors if he could rent open fields and barns and farmhouses for wedding and reception locales. Maybe he’d never get married, but at least he knew the best way to go about putting his own wedding together if he ever did find the right person.

One of his least favorite parts of the job was the dress shopping. There were only two shops in the whole county that provided formal wear—both run by older Bible-thumping ladies with overpriced dresses and outdated tastes. Rarely did Jack’s clients have the time to drive two and a half hours to the closest big city to check out other bridal shops—which meant Jack and his clients often shopped locally. Neither owner liked Jack, and while they made no effort to hide it, they happily took his and his clients’ money.

If this new shop was any better, he hoped to put those old bats out of business.

Jack pulled up to an old, large Victorian home that was remodeled and divided into three separate shops. There was a store dedicated year-round to Christmas on one side of the building. In the middle was a jeweler’s shop, whose wedding bands held the crafter’s personal touch and Jack’s recommendation. The other end of the building was once a little local knickknack shop, but the facade had changed.

_ Death Blossom Designs _ hung over the entrance, and two wedding dresses and a deep red evening gown were on display in the front windows. With striking silhouettes,they were gorgeously modern in comparison to the other two shops in town. Already this felt promising.

A bell above the door jingled quietly as Jack opened it and a lady at the desk looked up. 

“I’m Olivia, how can I help you?” she smiled, eyeing Jack like she was trying to figure him out.

“I have an appointment,” Jack said.

“Are you the model or the wedding planner?”

Model? Jack’s pretty sure he’s never been mistaken for a model before. He handed over his business card. “I’m just a wedding planner.”

She looked at the card and back at Jack, as if she didn’t believe what she saw. A moment later, she shrugged and waved Jack to take a look around. “The boss is in a fitting. He should be finishing up. Let me go check.”

Jack wandered about, getting a good look at the mannequins in flawless formal wear on display throughout the inviting and warmly lit boutique. Wedding gowns made of tulle, georgette, and charmeuse fabrics were on display, some with elegant mermaid tails and ball gown skirts. There was a rainbow of colors in flowing prom dresses of floating organza, sleek lamé, and taffeta. Expertly tailored suits hung on the racks, covering a cut for any body type, from American to English to Italian, as well as white and black tuxedos. 

There were three dressing rooms off to the side, a small lounge in the right back corner, and a series of mirrors that walled off the other corner. A woman Jack barely recognized as Elisabeth, one of his clients, was standing in front of the mirrors wearing a magnificent sheath silhouette dress with impeccably detailed beading over the bodice and shoulder straps.

However, it was the man on his knees pinning up the hem of those skirts that caught Jack’s breath. He was beautiful, from his perfectly trimmed dark curls and facial hair to his broad shoulders and back, all the way down his fantastic ass and thighs. The English cut of his suit was professional, but endlessly flattering, worn in a way only men with pride in their bodies could pull off. The grayish blue of it was wonderful choice against his bronze-brown skin, making the crisp silk of his shirt stand out and drawing Jack’s eyes with great appreciation to his unbuttoned collar.

  


“Hey, Gabe, your appointment’s here,” Olivia said, standing at the end of the row of mirrors, with Jack standing a courteous few feet behind her, not wanting to be inappropriate in his eagerness to get a closer look of Gabe.

Gabe looked up from the hemline he was scrutinizing and pulled the pins tucked between his full lips. He took one look at Jack standing behind Olivia and smiled. “The agency finally sent me a model,” he said, sounding relieved.

“Nope, just a wedding planner.” Olivia corrected him. Gabe exchanged a quick look at her, having her step forward to make a low comment that Jack couldn’t quite hear.

Elisabeth waved to Jack, trying her best not to move too much in her excitement. “I found it! Jack, it’s exactly as I dreamed!”

Jack wanted to tell her he was happy for her, but Olivia caught his attention and waved him over to the lounge area. 

“Gabe will be with you as soon as he’s done.”

Nodding, Jack waved at Elisabeth and went to take a seat. He busied himself by looking through his emails and schedule. He didn’t wait long before he was approached. He looked up into deep amber-brown eyes.

“You mean to tell me, with that jawline and those shoulders, you’ve never modeled a single day in your life?”

Jack tried not to flail as he shot to his feet, putting his hand out for a polite handshake. “Nope, never. Jack Morrison, just a wedding planner.”

Gabe smiled, wide and beautiful and inviting, and shared a hearty handshake with Jack. He’s even more gorgeous up close, with the laugh lines at his big, brown eyes.

“I’m Gabriel Reyes, but call me Gabe. I’m the owner and designer. I hope what you’re seeing here meets—or beats—any expectations you had.”

Jack made a show of glancing around. It was either that or look Gabe over again, his expectations for the man beaten more than anything else. “I don’t see any 1950’s chiffon or 80’s mall rat glamor, so yeah. You’re already a bar above the others in town.”

Gabe laughed. “It’s not that hard to read a Vogue or Fashion magazine, but yeah, I noticed the competition is a bit out-of-date. But I also do custom work, too. As long as they give me the time and are willing to pay an extra fee, I can design something from scratch for a customer.”

“I’m guessing that’s how Elisabeth finally found her dress?” Jack asked, looking toward the dressing rooms.

“She told me how she was putting off settling on a date until she found the dress of her dreams,” Gabe said, following Jack’s eyes. “I’ll have it finished in a week.”

“I’ll start looking for available venues and caterers the week after, then.”

They were quiet for a moment, surprisingly companionable despite just meeting each other, when Gabe turned his scrutiny on Jack. He was shameless in the way he looked at Jack, eyes roving over inch by inch and nodding as if he liked what he saw.

“Are you positive you don’t model? Look, I’ve contacted a local agency three times, and each time the model they’ve set up for me cancelled. I just want to get shots of my new collection. You’d be perfect. I’ll pay you. I’ll throw in customer discounts and top priority—“

“Wow, that’s. That’s not necessary.” Jack laughed nervously. His face was so hot, he knew he had to be blushing from his forehead down to his chest. “I mean, I’ve never done anything like that. I wouldn’t want to mess things up.”

“We’d work after hours,” Gabe reassured him, putting a friendly hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Come by a day or two to get fitted. We’ll take a few days here and there to get photos against different backdrops. All you’ll have to do is change a few times and look pretty for me.”

Jack wasn’t sure he’d ever looked pretty a day in his life. Gabriel made it sound like it wouldn’t be too difficult to do, though. “I suppose I could try?”

“Hey, Gabe?” Olivia spoke up from the front counter. “Your next appointment is here.”

“Be right with you!” Gabe said, then grabbed Jack’s hand with both of his and shook it. “You are going to be such a lifesaver. We’ll talk payment before we get started. Text or email me times you might be available.” He reached in his pocket for his wallet and pulled out his card, writing on it what Jack assumed was his personal cell number and email. 

Smiling hesitantly, Jack was shocked into disbelief by the whirlwind turn of events. He was not quite sure what he just agreed to, but it couldn’t be that hard to smile for a camera, right? “See you soon, then.”

“I hope so.” Gabe winked. He turned on his heels and smoothly greeted his new customers, Jack overhearing the mother taking her daughter shopping for her quinceañera dress.

As Jack headed for the exit, he passed by some of the gowns on a far wall, looking at their prices and admiring their craftsmanship. They were beautiful and decently priced. Jack would be more than happy to bring his clients here. That Gabe was easy on the eyes was just icing on the cake for him.

Elisabeth was talking to Olivia at the front desk as Jack readied to leave, stopping him for a hug. “I’ll call you as soon as I pick up the dress!” She was so excited, she glowed with happiness and Jack felt a sense of satisfaction. He always did when their smiles were honest and true.

*****

That night, he emailed his availability for the next few months to Gabe as he ate dinner. Within an hour, a reply email confirmed those dates to be perfectly suitable for Gabe, too. A thrill went through Jack, knowing he’d get to see Gabe again soon. 

With their jobs, Jack knew they would cross paths often in the interest of their customers. Even though their meetings would be work related, Jack was looking forward to it all the same. He wanted to pick the brain of the talented craftsman and find out what inspired Gabe to relocate to the middle of nowhere and design the gowns brides dream about.

The evening he was supposed to get his first set of measurements done, Jack spent the day scheduling caterers, venues, and florists for five separate weddings—two with over two hundred guests. The town had started slowing down by seven o'clock, so when he showed up at _ Death Blossom Designs _ before shop hours ended at eight, he wasn't surprised to see it was already empty.

Olivia locked the door behind Jack and flipped over the closed sign, smiling slyly at the two boxes of hot pizza he brought in friendship.

She winked, waving Jack to the lounge area. “The boss is going to love you.” 

Sure enough, Gabe appeared in a doorway leading to a set of stairs, measuring tape draped around his neck and pincushion fastened to his wrist. His button-up shirt with it’s fabulous print of ferns and fuschia blooms was half untucked, his hair a bit of a mess. “I smell pizza?” When his eyes fell on Jack, his whole face lit up in a soft smile. “You are a lifesaver! My new best friend! Gimme a sec—“ he said, and he ducked back up the stairs.

“I’m done with the register!” Olivia called from the front desk. “Don’t stay too late playing dress up!”

“Goodnight, Olivia,” Gabe replied in a sing-song voice from the floor above. 

She laughed and blew a playful kiss towards the stairway. She then waved goodbye to Jack as she slipped out the door.

Jack certainly hoped they would have a good time, even if it was just them getting to know each other. He tried stamping down on the hope that Gabe might take an interest in him, but he wasn't above gaining a friendship with an eye-candy bonus. Most of his friends in this county were just acquaintances that started as clients. Just once he wanted a connection with someone he could also talk shop with 

When Gabe reappeared with a few bottles of water, he looked much more put together and still just as happy to see Jack. “Not only are you saving my project, you’re also bringing food when I haven’t eaten all day. You are some kind of hero, Jack Morrison.”

Jack politely stood so they could shake hands. He accepted one of the drinks. “Just a cheese pizza and a pepperoni pizza. Nothing special. Besides, I haven’t eaten much today myself.”

“Nothing wrong with the classics. But hey! Let's feast! And after, we’ll discuss the details.”

They sat across from each other and used the open boxes for plates as they ate. Gabe moaned as he bit into a slice of pepperoni. “I completely forgot food existed until you walked in. I haven’t had much for customers today, but the work I’ve taken on is tedious. Luckily, I've got a good seamstress and friend moving out this way in a few weeks. She can take over more of the basic stuff.”

“You actually make all these gowns yourself? From scratch?” Jack asked, looking around in awe at all the colors and the silhouettes on the mannequins.

“For the most part, yeah. Some of them are simple patterns I can do in my sleep, and then I add my own personal touches for flourish. The ones on display are all customizable—color, size, fabric,” Gabe said, pointing to the mannequins around the boutique. “You name it. I like to offer options for everyone, give them the chance to find what makes them feel beautiful.”

Jack smiled, entranced by the soft light in Gabe’s eyes as he talked about his work. “You’ve got talent that belongs in big cities. What brought you out here?”

With a small chuckle, Gabe shrugged. “Seemed like a good place to start? In places like LA, everyone is showing off. It takes a lot to stand out when you’re fresh out the gate and on your own. But here? It’s small, it’s cheap, it’s competitive—“

“Is it really competition?” Jack smirked.

“It’s competition enough for now, okay?” Gabe laughed, and the sound of it was kind of dorky, but his little snort was still very cute. “There’s room to grow. If I can do well here, get some trustworthy employees with skills to match, maybe I’ll open another shop a county or two over. If I can get my portfolio together within a couple of years, I have a friend with some connections who can get me on a runway for a fashion week or two. That might draw in out-of-town interests.”

Jack ate around the crust of his second slice. “How did you get into the business?”

Gabe shoved another two bites into his mouth and washed it down with water, waiting to talk until his mouth was no longer full. “I was a costume designer for stage work. I’d done flowy gowns and stuff before for all kinds of theatrical productions. When I got married, my fiancée at the time wanted me to help make her dress. I had so much fun with it that I decided to put my focus into it.”

Of course he was married. How could a man that handsome not be snatched up? Jack told himself over and over he wasn’t in this for anything beyond a working or platonic relationship, but he couldn’t help feeling a tiny sting of disappointment as all his stomped-on hopes deflated. Oh well.

“I bet it was beautiful,” Jack said, swallowing down some water.

“I’ll show you a picture some time. I’m sure I have one in my portfolio.” Gabe nodded. “Speaking of, now that we’ve gotten some food down, here’s what I have in mind.”

Gabe pulled a notepad out from where it was wedged in between the cushions of the lounge chair. He scribbled a list of things to do, like taking measurements, fittings for Jack, and location scouting for the photoshoot. Jack suggested a couple venues he could borrow, as he already knew the owners from past events he had booked there. Gabe went on to discuss some of the cuts for the suits, as well as fabric choices, and how he might need to swap out some colors to compliment Jack’s blue eyes.

“That’s a lot of work,” Jack said slowly.

“They need to be tailored to you. I might as well give you colors that suit you. You can have them afterwards.”

“Gabe! That’s expensive!”

He shrugged carelessly at Jack. “It’s good advertising. Your clients can ask where you got your suit, and you’ll tell them I made it.”

“Then I’m not going to let you pay me, too. How many suits are we even talking about?”

After rattling off several different basic cuts for suits and tuxedos, as well as a few alternatives, the count is somewhere near eleven.

Jack groaned in disbelief, dropping his face into his slightly greasy hands. “That’s too much.” 

“There’s no such thing. You’ll look dashing all the time. A true model.” Gabe grinned, making Jack blush at the attention.

“But I’m not a model,” Jack reminded him, only to be shushed for it.

“No one has to know.”

With only a few slices of pizza left, they cleaned up the boxes and empty bottles. After Jack insisted Gabe take the leftovers for lunch the next day, Gabe wrapped up the remaining slices and then led Jack to the stockroom above the shop. He showed Jack a variety of bolts of fabric, numerous dress forms, and several sewing machines. Elisabeth’s gown was draped over a work area, looking all but finished. 

Gabe picked up another notepad from a desk in the corner and grabbed an unraveled measuring tape. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get your measurements.”

“This became very personal very quickly,” Jack chuckled, slipping off his blazer. 

Laughing that sweet, dorky laugh, Gabe shook his head and grinned. “Oh, I don’t need you naked _ yet _. But I will have to get up close and personal with your inseam.” 

He pointed to a crate and Jack hopped up on it, allowing Gabe to get measurements of his legs and waist. 

“You are all leg,” Gabe said with a deep appreciation from down around Jack’s knees. “Did you run track and field in high school? Because it would’ve been a waste if you hadn’t.”

“I did, actually!” Jack barked a laugh. He went on to tell Gabe about how he wasn’t big enough for football, but his family insisted he participate in some kind of sport, probably in hopes that it would somehow force the gay out of him. Gabe lamented the pain of suffering from bigotry with Jack, apologetic that Jack had to grow up with it. As a change of subject to something lighter, Gabe told Jack of his adventures in drama club and the crazy cast parties they had. 

They talked and talked, bouncing from one subject to another as the conversation flowed. They were strangers, but it didn’t feel that way with how easy it felt to be there with Gabe. 

It’s midnight before they realize how long they’ve talked. Four hours. It wasn’t like Gabe wasn’t busy, his hands sketching some designs and showing Jack some swatches here and a pattern there. Gabe apologized with a frown, saying he didn’t mean to keep Jack out this late. He helped Jack into his blazer, fixing the collar of Jack’s button down and smoothing a hand over the lapels of his blazer.

“It’s okay. My first appointment isn’t until noon, so I can sleep in for a while,” Jack reassured him as they made their way down the creaky stairs.

“Still, you won’t let me pay you,” Gabe said as he began turning off the lights. “You’re letting me take up your free time.”

“You did all the work. And besides, I had fun.” Jack smiled, hoping Gabe could see he truly meant it. “I’m looking forward to the next time.”

“I’ll handle dinner. What would you like?”

“Surprise me,” Jack said with a wink as they locked the door for the night.

Two busy weeks later, Jack was very surprised by the small spread of tamales waiting for him on one of the work tables in the storeroom. Having once received a grocery bag full of homemade tamales from a grateful grandmother as thanks for her granddaughter’s beautiful wedding, Jack knew this was no joke. 

“Did you make these?” Jack asked, unwrapping a corn husk and taking in the rich scent of masa and adobo. He paused before taking a bite, a pang in his chest at the thought that maybe Gabe’s wife put her heart into these. Bittersweet jealousy made his own heart ache just a little.

“Ha! Like I’d have the time. You sent three more people my way this week!” Gabe grinned, digging in happily. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but until my seamstress shows up, it doesn’t leave me time to make much more than microwave dinners or ready-to-heat meals. Olivia’s mother made them. If not for her, I’d probably have some kind of deficiency. How about you, Jack? You cook?”

Jack shrugged. “I can, I guess.” He savored a bite of tamale before smiling ruefully at Gabe. “Nothing this amazing, though. But there’s a few creature comforts I’ve gotten decent at on my own. Maybe I’ll make some for you?”

“You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” Gabe looked up a Jack with his big brown puppy eyes.

Jack swallowed hard, knowing he’d never survive if Gabe ever truly begged anything of him. “I wouldn’t. I mean, baked mac’n cheese isn’t too difficult.”

They fell into easy conversation about food—from their favorites to family traditions, to the worse things they’ve ever tasted. After they polished off dinner and cleaned up, Gabe drew Jack over to a rack of clothing. He had Jack try on a few different suit jackets, checking how the cuts hung on his shoulders and fit his chest. Gabe looked him over thoroughly each time, encouraging Jack to turn around, button and unbutton the jacket, lift his arms, and put his hands in his pockets. Jack tried to take each direction as casually and naturally as possible, but Gabe’s intense gaze left him nervous and weak in the knees.

Running a hand over his beard, Gabe shook his head. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m going to make probably two American suits for you because I need them in my portfolio, but—and I can’t stress this enough—I honestly think it’s best if you never wear an American cut ever again.”

At a loss for words, Jack sputtered. American suits were easier to come by and rarely needed a tailor. Which was convenient, especially since the one tailor in town refused to provide services to Jack on account of his being gay.

“They’re completely shapeless,” Gabe said, stepping in close and unbuttoning the jacket Jack wore. He had Jack face a set of full-length mirrors as he slid the jacket off his shoulders. “You deserve something that shows off the form you have. Slim and athletic, good shoulders and a trim waist.”

Gabe pulled a jacket off a hanger and helped Jack into it, standing behind him as Jack fastened the button at the waist. “English suits will do in a pinch, but you—Italian was made for you,” Gabe whispered over his shoulder, looking at Jack through the mirror.

The jacket was a beautiful dark gray fabric with white stars embroidered over his right shoulder and swooping patterns in blue at the bottom hem. Jack admired the tiny stitches, oblivious to Gabe stepping away, only to notice his return as Gabe knelt down at Jack’s side with a ruler and his wrist pincushion.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just going to pin the hems.” A few pins already between his lips, Gabe’s grin was awkward. Jack tried to stay as still as he could, despite his feelings of anxiousness as Gabe worked on his knees before him. He felt vulnerable, made self-conscious by Gabe’s quiet presence.

When he cleared the pins from his mouth, Gabe hummed. He offered to put the radio on, asking what station Jack liked to listen to. From there, the conversation started up again, and Jack found himself relaxing into it as they shared their tastes in music. Jack despised country music and was tired of the grunge and hairbands the local stations played. Gabe’s guilty pleasure was heavy metal—the more epic in lyrical storytelling the better. Somehow, they both shared a love for 80’s pop music and 90’s R&B. When Gabe smoothly crooned a little of the chorus to K-Ci & JoJo’s “All My Life,” Jack thought he was going to die.

_ What a song to pick _, he thought, the lyrics resonating with him. All his life, he’s been waiting for someone like Gabe, someone he could connect to. To have Gabe singing it to him, even just a few lines, and not even knowing how Jack felt, left Jack breathless.

“How are you not in a R&B group?” Jack demanded, feeling goosebumps all over his arms and neck. 

“I guess for the same reason you’re not a model? Our paths just didn’t take us that way.” Gabe stood and brushed at the knees of his slacks. “Okay, do a little turn for me in the mirror.”

  


Jack stepped up to his reflection and turned, smoothing his hands over the soft fabric. It looked amazing on him, like no other suit jacket had before.

“Oh my, who’s that handsome devil?” Gabe asked, smiling softly as he leaned over Jack’s shoulder to get a good view of him in the mirror.

Jack flushed deeply, feeling shy from Gabe’s attention. “Don’t be fooled, I simply know a good designer.”

“You could give yourself some more credit, you know,” Gabe said, helping Jack out of the jacket to hang it up again. Jack already missed him being so close. “These people around here have no taste at all.”

The ache in Jack’s chest spread and sat heavy in his stomach. Gabe was married, he reminded himself, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He couldn’t help longing for Gabe. The time spent together during these two sessions turned his harmless attraction into a heavy crush, weighing Jack’s heart down.

“I could’ve told you that,” he said weakly. Gabe’s dorky snort made his heart ache, and he sighed quietly.

*****

Over the next few weeks, Jack both looked forward to and desperately wanted to avoid his sessions with Gabe. He loved every moment they spent together, the companionship and banter something he rarely ever found in another person. The sore ache in his heart made it difficult to walk away, though. He stayed as late as he dared those nights, modeling each handmade piece, basking in Gabe’s attention as he sought perfection in his work. Jack always regretted it after as he laid alone in bed at night, wishing he bring that connection with Gabe home with him.

Seeing Gabe for work was just as difficult. Some of Jack’s more overwhelmed clients requested him to join them in searching for gowns and help plan the wedding around the colors and themes. He got to see Gabe hard at work, talking about dream weddings and sketching them up for the brides-to-be. Knowledgeable in all aspects of making the dress and the right questions to ask, Gabe would smile gently and encourage them to embrace their beauty.

Elisabeth’s big day went over perfectly. Jack oversaw everything down to the tiny details most brides would fret about. Under Jack’s care, the bridal party enjoyed the ceremony all without a hitch. She gushed over her wedding dress, telling everyone that would listen how wonderful her experience was from the moment she walked into _Death Blossom Designs_. As the bride and groom had their first dance, Jack followed the photographer, making sure they captured Elisabeth in the best light, skirts flaring as she moved around the dance floor. With Elisabeth’s permission, he bought a few of the photos for Gabe to show him the happiness he had created when he joined Ana Amari for her appointment at Gabe’s shop.

Jack showed up early with the hope of catching Gabe alone, wanting to see Gabe’s face light up with that soft smile.

He greeted Olivia as he entered the shop, and she pointed him toward the back. As he weaved around the mannequins and racks, Jack stopped just short of the stairs to the storeroom. Gabe was caught up in a hug with a tall, gorgeous woman. She cut a beautiful figure in her stylish, short skirt and thigh high leather boots, her long black hair pulled into a high ponytail. She looked like a model, exactly the kind of fashionable woman Jack would expect to be Gabe’s wife. When they pulled a part and kissed each other on the cheek, Jack felt his stomach bottom out. The bright grin on Gabe’s face as he waved her up the stairs pierced Jack to his core. 

“Hey, Jack!” Gabe greeted, smile growing wider before fading. “You alright?”

“Just. Just thinking. Got a lot to do today,” Jack lied. “But, um. I got pictures of one of your gowns in action.”

Gabe put an arm around Jack’s shoulders and leaned against him as Jack pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket. They looked at the pictures together, Jack flipping through them and pointing out decorations and the finer points of the venue. It was only a minor distraction from Gabe’s closeness, from Jack desperately wanting to turn his head and catch Gabe’s lips with his own. A minor distraction from remembering Gabe’s wife was here, just up the stairs.

Ana arrived as Jack pressed the photos into Gabe’s hands, feeling like it was a parting gift, a final goodbye. He promised himself he’d be more professional with Gabe from now on, and not give in to the gnawing ache that wanted what wasn’t his.

Jack led the introductions as the three of them sat in the lounge area. Gabe pulled out a sketchbook from under a seat cushion and flipped to an empty page.

“Have you had any visions of what you’d like to wear?” Gabe asked, pulling a mechanical pencil from his jacket pocket. 

“I’ve had more concerns than daydreams,” Ana said, folding her hands in her lap. “This is my second marriage. My fiancé and I are already getting a lot of grief due to our religious differences. Everyone thinks they can put their two cents in for how I shouldn’t go with a traditional ceremony because it’s unlucky and will ruin our marriage.”

Clicking his pencil twice, Gabe gave Ana a considering look. “It’s kinda crap that people think anything after a first marriage is doomed to fail. People still grow after their wedding, and sometimes they can grow apart. It doesn’t mean you can’t find love again, or even find a love stronger than the first. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you can’t have the best day possible for a new beginning.”

“You sound like you’ve heard this a lot,” Ana said with an astute smile.

“I may have some experience with it, yeah.” Gabe nodded, leaning back in the leather seat. He propped his ankle over his knee and sat his sketchbook on his thigh. When Gabe moved his hand to rest on his ankle, it dawned on Jack that there was no ring on his finger.

Ana hummed thoughtfully. “So, then what would you suggest?”

“Unless you’re superstitious, traditions are just cookie-cutter choices for boring people,” Gabe said, picking up his pencil and beginning to sketch. There was no ring on that hand, either. “They say you shouldn’t wear pure white for your second gown, but most people can’t tell alabaster from ivory or parchment, so what’s the point? If it makes you happy to rebel against the status quo, then I can make you the most beautiful punk-bride your groom has ever seen.”

Ana laughed. “How simple and classy can you go and still toss caution to the wind?”

“I’ve got a few recommendations you can try on for starters, and we can go from there. I only suggest that you pick something that you feel good in.” Gabe set his sketch pad aside to stand, offering Ana a hand up. “Who gives a damn what anyone else thinks. And if your partner has a problem with it, is he really the one you want to marry?”

Ana’s laugh was wicked as Gabe led her away to show her some samples. Jack couldn’t find the strength in his legs to follow. How had he not noticed there wasn’t a ring on Gabe’s finger? Gabe’s words about finding love again felt so relevant.

The stairs creaked and the dark-haired beauty appeared again. She looked around, probably searching out Gabe, but her eyes fell on Jack. She smirked ever so slightly and moved in on him like a predator. 

“You must be Jack,” she said, taking a seat beside him. She had a slight accent to her words, maybe French, Jack thought. “I’ve heard more about you and your inseam than I’ve ever wanted to know.”

If Jack had been drinking, he would have made an impressive spit-take. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m Amélie, Gabe’s best friend—“

“The seamstress!” Jack blurted in relief, followed by the thought, _ Not the wife! _

“No, my god, I’m not his ex,” she said with a disgusted pout as Jack realized he had spoken his thought out loud.

It was too much to take in—not even a half hour ago Jack was trying to reel in his heartbreak, and now he was bombarded with hope. “I didn’t know,” he said, flustered. “He just mentioned once that he was married, but didn’t go into it.”

“They’ve been divorced a few years now,” Amélie said, eyes seeking out Gabe in the shop. “He doesn’t like to talk about it much. He came out to her as bisexual and she threw him out the house. Divorced him on supposed infidelities.”

That would definitely explain why Gabe never talked about his wife. 

“Should you be outing him?” Jack asked, feeling a little angry on Gabe’s behalf, towards both the cruelness of his wife and his supposed best friend.

“Does his being bisexual bother you?” She looked smug in a way that made Jack feel painfully self-conscious.

“No,” Jack said firmly. Because it didn’t bother him. Because it meant that Jack actually did have a chance with Gabe. Because he’d be as much of an asshole as Gabe’s ex, as much of an asshole as everyone who has thought less of Jack for being gay, if Gabe’s bisexuality was anything other than perfectly fine. “No, I wouldn’t be bothered by something so stupid.”

Amélie snorted, rolling her eyes. Still, she smirked at Jack, like she knew something he didn’t. “You both are too professional for me,” she said cryptically, laughing quietly as she got to her feet. She strode away with all the grace of a huntress, leaving Jack stunned in her wake.

Jack tried his best to pay attention to the work happening around him when Gabe and Ana returned to the lounge area. They were discussing a custom piece, but Jack could barely hear over the thunder of his heart in his ears. Every time he’d watch Gabe sketch, he was distracted by Gabe’s hands or his beautiful, focused face. Jack’s brain played back every conversation between them that he could remember, tripping over all the moments of little compliments and friendly gestures. Was Gabe interested or just being kind? Did Jack really have a shot, or was he overthinking this?

Before he knew it, Ana was moving along to the front desk to talk to Olivia about an initial deposit. Jack and Gabe were alone.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gabe asked, straightening Jack’s tie and smoothing down his suit jacket.

He didn’t know. With Gabe so close and so much going on in his head, he couldn’t be sure. “I’ll be fine.”

Gabe’s smile was uncertain. “We still on for tonight? Last fitting.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Jack promised. He just wasn’t sure if he would survive it.

Other than setting up another appointment with Ana later in the week, Jack didn’t have much else to do before _Death Blossom Designs_ closed for the night. His idea originally was to put together a dinner he could share with Gabe, but Jack’s head wasn’t into it. The initial attempt at boiling pasta ended with a scorched pot. 

His focus remained fixated on Gabe. On his beautiful face. His flair for clothing. His busy hands. His goofy laugh. His breathtaking voice. His generous, sweet heart. 

Jack pulled himself together enough to stop by the best Italian place in town and buy two orders of baked spaghetti and garlic bread to go. He made it in time to see Olivia and Amélie as they were on their way out for the night. Pausing to take a breath, Jack stood at the bottom of the stairs to gather his scattered wits, preparing himself mentally and emotionally to be in Gabe’s presence. Just because Gabe was divorced and just because he was bisexual didn’t mean he had a thing for Jack. Just because Jack wanted to love him, it didn’t mean they couldn’t just be friends. Taking the steps at a slow, steady pace, Jack entered the storeroom to find Gabe at a work table, pouring wine into two paper cups.

“Sorry I don’t have something fancier to drink from.” Gabe smiled, alerted to Jack’s arrival by the creaky staircase. 

Jack was confused. “What are we celebrating?”

“I have some news.” Gabe held up a cup for Jack to take, trading it for the bag of food so he could set it down. “Now that Amélie is here, she and I can split the sewing, and I can get a little more free time. But, with Amélie, we get her husband, too. He’s a photographer. So, now we can get those shots I need for my portfolio!”

“That’s good news.” Jack tapped his cup to Gabe’s in a toast.

“And speaking of my portfolio, Amélie has been showing off pictures of my gowns to her ‘very important’ friends.” Gabe took a small sip and looked into the cup as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. “Some of them have shown interest. As soon as I can get my portfolio together, I’m going to Paris.”

Choking on his own wine as he tried to take a sip, Jack croaked, “Paris?!”

“Yup, the big times.” Gabe nodded, reaching to wipe a little spilt wine off of Jack’s chin.

“You’re not staying, are you? You’re coming back, right?” Jack asked in a panic. With all those pretty people in the fashion industry, Gabe would probably forget Jack in a week. 

“No, I’d come back.” Gabe smiled. “But Jack, what if you came with me?”

“What?” Jack blinked, feeling Gabe’s warm breath against his cheek. When did Gabe move so close?

“Come with me to Paris,” Gabe said, voice low and enchanting, his fingers holding against Jack’s chin.

Jack was dizzy with breathlessness. “... why?” 

“I’m presenting my label to global investors.” Ever so gently, Gabe leaned his forehead against Jack’s and whispered to him like it was a secret. “I need someone with a background in business on my team.”

“Oh…” Of course. They were friends, but first and foremost, what they had was a working relationship.

“Also—” Those deft fingers lifted Jack’s chin, angling their faces until Jack and Gabe shared the same air. “—I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  


The kiss was sweet and chaste, light enough that Jack could pull away and they could laugh it off, if they wanted.

Jack did laugh as their lips parted, feeling shaky with nerves and hysterical with happiness. “It’s funny, I can’t seem to stop thinking about you either.”

“Then let me get you away from here. I can show you the world—or at least Paris for now?” Gabe asked, sliding his arms around Jack. It was like the same whirlwind that pulled Jack into their working relationship, Gabe’s excitement and smile drawing Jack in. “Please? This place makes you unhappy. I’ve wanted to get you away from here since I first saw you.”

Jack let himself hope, his heart filled with warmth. It was far too soon to think about weddings, but for the first time in a long while, he found happiness for himself. The long and tender kiss he gave Gabe brimmed with that happiness. Jack was pretty sure no matter where he went, he’d be happy with Gabe.

**Author's Note:**

> The song “All My Life” has been getting stuck in my head thanks to a commercial that’s been playing a lot lately. (I’m old enough to remember when it first hit the radio, too.) [Check it out if you wanna suffer with me.](https://g.co/kgs/TmJdfm)
> 
> I'm on twitter [@chibimonoakuno](https://twitter.com/chibimonoakuno).


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